


Oral

by AmoretteHD



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:57:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/AmoretteHD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When our deepest desires are revealed, we’re not always ready for them. Written for hp_silencio 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oral

His knees hit the ground with a rough thud, though he ignored the pain that sprouted at the impact. He was too preoccupied with Potter’s hand, which gripped the back of his head and pulled his face eagerly toward the front of Potter’s trousers. The tip of Draco’s nose hit Potter’s groin, and he inhaled sharply and closed his eyes, concentrating on the cold metal button against his skin. He waited, mouth gaping slightly; a puppet to Potter’s need. He let Potter direct him, and Potter pulled his head forward again until Draco’s lips pressed against something hard.

 

Draco felt weak, and his heart thundered. His mouth was starting to salivate. Like a hungry dog. Desperate for Potter to put something in it.

 

Potter tightened his grip in Draco’s hair until his scalp stung, but Draco welcomed it. The sharp pull at the root of his hair was a distraction from the overwhelming need building up inside him.

 

He opened his mouth, tasting cotton as he pressed his tongue against the hardness. He exhaled through his nose, hard and frustrated, and closed his lips in a kiss. At that, he heard Potter sigh... or maybe moan... and rough fingers brushed his face as Potter slowly unzipped. The sliding noise of the zipper was like a fan to the flame, because Draco knew what was coming.

 

There was a long moment in which all that existed was the fumbling of Potter’s hand in his clothing, and the expectant beating of Draco’s heart. Then, he felt something hot press against his lips. It felt big, and spongy. And silky. It slid against Draco’s lips, coating them in searing wetness. The heady smell of it made Draco groan and open his mouth wide, stretching his lips around the shaft.

 

Oh, God. He welcomed Potter’s cock in his mouth, gagging himself on it willingly. His throat wanted to close up, but Draco wanted to let Potter’s cock in. To let it fuck him deep, deep down his throat so Potter could feel the tight heat of it. He forced his head down, lower and lower each time; he forced his throat to take it, although he kept gagging. He wanted it. He wanted to be a place for Potter to shove his cock. To dump his come into. God, he was salivating thickly down his own chin. How embarrassing. How utterly humiliating.

 

Draco’s cock was bloody throbbing.

 

His face pressed into Potter’s coarse hair, and … _oh_ , the smell of him. The sprinkling of hair along his thighs. Potter was such a man. It left Draco shaking with desire for him.

 

Potter pulled Draco’s head off his dick, and Draco inhaled deeply through his mouth. Strands of his saliva hung from Potter’s cockhead to his mouth, and covered Draco’s lips and chin. He was a pig. And all he wanted was more cock. More of Potter’s cock. He looked at it, and his body thrummed with the need to have it. Draco ran his tongue over his bottom lip, opening his mouth wide, showing Potter he wanted more.

 

He looked up, and their eyes met. Potter’s face and neck was flushed. He stared at Draco with that hard, determined look of his, the one he wore on the pitch or before a fight. He was single-minded in that moment. Powerful. Strong. God, he was everything everyone said he was. He was a saviour. A hero. A rock; a beacon of light.

 

Draco wanted to kneel at his feet forever, pleasuring him like he deserved. He wanted to have no purpose but to pleasure Potter. His mouth was at Potter’s disposal.

 

Potter put the head of his cock to Draco’s lips again, as if waiting for Draco to do what he knew he should. Inviting Draco to comply with his role. To move on his own and admit this was what he was made for.

 

Draco leaned in, aware of the meaning of that simple act, and licked down Potter’s shaft from tip to groin. Potter thrust up once, hitting Draco in the nose, and not apologizing or stopping. Draco’s face was his toy, and he could fuck it in any way he wanted. Draco loved it.

 

Draco held his tongue out, dripping with saliva, as Potter moved Draco’s head up and down, up and down. Draco made embarrassing, slutty grunts and whines, his own cock nearing explosion.

 

Then Potter stopped moving. Draco blinked. He raised his eyes, but all he saw was Potter’s stomach and chest. Potter pulled his head back until Draco could see his face.

 

Draco pulled his tongue back into his mouth, swallowing. There was something softer in Potter’s eyes all the sudden, and it made Draco’s heart flutter. Potter cupped Draco’s cheek. Potter opened his mouth. He was about to say something. His lips moved, forming words...

 

Draco woke with a start. He sat there breathing hard until he realized how stiflingly hot it was, and he kicked the blankets off himself to avoid suffocation. A chill crept over him, and he realized his night clothes were soaked in sweat.

 

He looked at the hardness tenting his pajama bottoms. Covering his eyes fully with both arms draped over his face, he groaned, remembering the dream. Shame stabbed him in the gut, and he was paralyzed with it. His body tensed, and he lay there wincing for a whole minute. Finally, he rolled over and buried his face in the damp pillow.

 

He inhaled his scent of his own sweat, and the dream flooded his mind again. The remembered smell of Potter’s groin made Draco moan, despite himself. He wanted to be normal, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Potter like this. It was so wrong, and the shame was not the welcome humiliation of the dream... this shame was horrifying. He wanted Potter dead. He wanted himself dead.

 

These thoughts swirled around his head until Draco was too exhausted to think, and until the night sky brightened. There was something comforting about the white haze of dawn, which told him he was safe in another day, where Potter was just another boy whom Draco did not want at all. At least he could tell himself that, and almost believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me on tumblr: [@heyitsamorette](https://heyitsamorette.tumblr.com/)


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